


Drifting

by kiimigi



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epilogue, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Military, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 22:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11366820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiimigi/pseuds/kiimigi
Summary: The war is over, but that doesn’t mean some battles haven’t been won yet.Or that some aren’t still suffering.Some quiet moments between Makoto and Haru as they try to pick up the pieces.Epilogue to Marble Eyes





	Drifting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rainbowsprinklesandcats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowsprinklesandcats/gifts).



Makoto blinks awake up a little bit at a time. He rolls sleepily onto his side, groaning as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. He yawns, still in the in between of waking up and actually getting up. He just lies there for a second, watching how the light catches the dust filtering in from the window, the sky just a hint of blue peeking through the window.

What time it was?

Kicking the blanket off, he eventually sits up, running a hand through his messy hair. He sighs before fully committing and stands up, pushing his hand against his knee.

The house is completely silent except for sound of his bare feet against the smooth cool wood. Almost like a ghost, Makoto pads through the house, making his way to the living room, only to be disappointed when he found it empty.

"Haru!?" Makoto calls out, breaking the silence.

But the only response he got was Emi perking her head up from where she lay on the porch. Happily, she came trotting into the living room, her nails clicking against the floor. Emi was Haru's pet dog, a lovely Kishu Inu with a deep brown pelt and bright intelligent eyes.

"Hey, girl, do you know where Haru went?" Makoto bent down to scratch behind her ear. She just licks her nose as a response before turning and trotting back the way she came, slipping through the sliding doors that led to the porch and garden, hopping down onto the grass. Before stopping, nose pointed dutifully towards the direction of the...

"The beach again, huh?" Makoto said to both himself and Emi. Makoto stared off into the distance, as if he could actually see Haru wading through the currents, disappearing underwater for minutes at a time, body twisting this way and that like he was meant to be there.

A short whine snapped him back to reality as Emi looks back at him, scratching at the back door with a paw.

Makoto felt his heart twinge.

"Sorry, pup" Makoto bit down on his lip, his throat already stifled with emotions that threatened to overflow as memories began to flood back. Red washing over blue. Water flooding his lungs. Emi must have picked up his distress as a wet nose gently pressed against his knee, looking up at with big eyes that looked like they understood. Makoto let out a quivering breath, running a hand over her head, feeling a bit better. "Thanks"

Makoto took a deep breath in, feeling his lungs expand, air filling his lungs instead of water.

Don’t think about it

Inhale

Exhale

Makoto smacked his face a couple of times just to make sure before getting up again, Emi following obediently as he went back inside. Haru’s house was by no means messy, but a couple loose books and art supplies Haru had been using were still littered here and there. Quickly, Makoto gathered them, sorting through them before returning them to their proper places. It’s better to keep busy to keep the mind from wondering. Did Emi need a wash? Maybe he could even try making Haru breakfast again after this?

But just as Makoto was slotting a book back into its empty space in the book shelf, a piece of paper fell out from between the pages, floating down to the ground before Makoto could catch it. It was small, barely the size of his palm, and there were crease marks as if it had been folded. Makoto flipped it over to see two Japanese men smiling at him. Makoto smiled back.

He could tell the pair were trying to look tough, the shorter of the pair flashing a wide grin showing off sharp teeth, throwing a back handed peace sign while he leaned against the taller, who on the other hand, only had a confident smirk and folded arms.

Something about it made Makoto sad.

And why had Haru tried to hide it in a book? It was almost like he didn’t want to see it

"Didn’t anyone tell you that you shouldn’t snoop?" Makoto turned to see Haru pulling on a shirt as he walked towards Makoto. He didn’t sound upset, only his causal monotone. Up close, Makoto could see the shine of Haru's still wet hair and the sand that clung stubbornly to his skin. Not knowing what else to do, Makoto held up the photograph for Haru. Haru hesitated before taking it, holding it with such delicately as if he was afraid he’d shatter the moment captured. He looked down at it, running his fingers over the glossy paper, over frozen faces.

His eyes glossed over as if he was far away, lost in a memory.

"Haru?"

"Mmm" Haru hummed, but otherwise didn’t react at all.

"I-If you don’t mind, can I ask who they were?" Makoto asked, hands finding each other as they start to worry, unsure if he had crossed a line.

Haru blinked once, the life back in his eyes. Looking for a second more before he slipped the photo back in between the pages and sliding the book back into place as well.

"Their names were Rin and Sousuke. We fought together at one point. They...they were important to me."

Makoto nodded, "Where are they now?" He was almost too scared to ask

"Somewhere better I hope"

Makoto took a step forward, Haru had sounded so sad that he just wanted tuck him under his chin; tell him that it’ll all be alright. But Haru stopped him with a shake of his head, "There are more than one way to lose somebody, Makoto. War changes people."

"I’m sorry, Haru"

He shook his head again "Wasn’t your fault"

"That’s not what I’m apologizing for."

Haru's big beautiful eyes searched his, like they were desperately trying to find something. Turning away, Haru lets out a long breath. Just like Makoto had

Inhale

Exhale

Don’t think about it

"Do you want some tea? I’m about to make lunch" Haru says, all the hurt gone from his voice now. Not even waiting for Makoto’s answer before turning into the kitchen.

"I’d love some. Thank you." Makoto settles down at the low table in Haru’s living room. The smell of cooking fish fills the air. Makoto shouldn’t have been surprised. He watches Haru's back as he works, loving the way he moves with casual elegance in everything little thing he did. Emi joins him, settling near enough for Makoto to run a hand over her.

Not too long after Haru is bringing them their food, a dish balanced in both hands.

"Here you go, Makoto." He said setting the dish down in front of Makoto, Makoto thanking him as Haru sat opposite of him with his own food. Emi immediately abandons Makoto, to instead rest her head directly on Haru's lap, who petted her lovingly.

"Itadatimas" Makoto clapped his hands together, followed by Haru’s quieter version of the same action

"Mmmm, it’s really good" Makoto smiled, greedily stuffing mouth after mouth.

"Not really" Haru says turning his head to avoid Makoto’s gaze. Makoto only smiled wider.

"Enryo chinaide* " Makoto teased, a little proud that his Japanese didn’t sound too bad. Well it was defiantly better than when Haru last saw him.

Haru just rolled his eyes "you still sound so American"

Makoto just giggled despite the fact that Haru was kind of insulting him. He just loved the way his name flowed from Haru’s lips. All of his fellow solider stumble over his name or mispronounced it more times he could count. But when Haru said it, it sounded so natural, so elegant for once.

"What’s so funny?" A small frown formed

Makoto just laughed louder "It’s nothing"

"And its pronounced _Shin_ aide"

“Shinaide”

“A little better”

Haru hides a small smile by taking another bite of food

\----

 

 

A young man stares back at him, eyes hazel brown scared and a neat hole on his forehead.

Makoto’s mouth opens in a silent scream as his hand start shaking so much he drops his gun.

“Makoto”

The man crumples to the floor at his feet.

Makoto tries to scramble back, but his legs aren’t working and he falls back, his ass in the mud

“Makoto”

He’s surrounded by dead bodies, floating upside down in murky dead water

Makoto screams, tears streaking down his face.

Water is flooding into his mouth

He struggles to get to the surface, claws at water desperately

Please I don’t want to die!

Red floods blue

"Makoto"

Makoto bolts up right screaming. Firm hands grasped at him. He kicks and screams and cries but he can’t get away. He’s going to die. He sobs "Makoto!" The voice jolts him out of his panic. "Makoto?" The voice repeats gentler this time, closer to him. He sucks in shaky breath, his chest rising and falling, hands clutching at his blanket

"H-Haru?"

"Yeah, it’s me" The warm touch of his hand on his cheek slowly bringing him back.

"Sorry" he manages to whisper, his lips trembling. He wipes the tears away. Gentle hands press against his chest, pushing him back down. Haru pulls the blanket back and slides his body next to his, their bodies fitting together easily.

"Don’t worry, I get them too" Haru whispers into his chest. Makoto nods his head stiffly. He hides his face in the top of Haru’s head. He doesn’t want Haru see him like his, because he doesn’t want to see himself his way, doesn’t want to face it again.

Haru keeps touching him, running a hand up and down his back, and Makoto relaxes into his touch. Warm and soft and gentle. Haru’s fingers keep exploring. At some point he had slipped his hand beneath his shirt, skin against skin, as he trails his hand over warm flesh, running his hand down the nobs of his spin. His fingers quiver as they brush over the scar. The ugly puffy scar tissue almost perfertly circular where the bullet had exited him. Haru’s fingers dance around it, circling it like he’s scared.

“Is this alright?” Haru whispers

“Yeah” Makoto nods, running his hand through Haru’s hair “do you want to see it?”

Haru pauses, considering it, before he shakes his head. Makoto holds him tighter.

 “Did it hurt?”

“only later on. The doctors said I was lucky to be shot where I was. Nothing important got hit.”

Haru nods, keeping his features perfectly schooled. His hands retreats out from under his shirt and Makoto found himself missing Haru’s touch.

“I’m sorry” Haru whispers.

“It wasn’t your fault. I wanted to protect you.” Makoto pulls him gently into his chest, smoothing the top of his hair.

 Haru stares at him. Sighing, he rests his head against Makoto’s chest again, "Get some sleep. If you can."

“Okay, Haru.”

 They both know he’s not going to be able to fall back asleep. They both know Haru’s going to stay up with him. Makoto’s so much more grateful for it then he could ever say. That Haru is just there. That he’s here. Because that means he’s doesn’t have to be alone anymore

\----

 

Haru bowed his head as he clapped his hands twice. Makoto stood quietly next to him waiting patiently for Haru to finish praying. The leaves rustled gently in the breeze and a bird sung in the distance. Makoto took a deep breath in. The air was sweet here. Standing there, surrounded by trees probably hundreds of years old and shrines carved out of solid stone, time seemed to slow down. It felt like he was under a daze, like he was floating from moment to moment.

Like nothing really mattered anymore. And it didn’t, he was nobody here, he had no responsibilities, no places to be. He just had to exist.

But that wasn’t entirely true, was it. He did have somewhere to be.

 So maybe he was just buying time.

"Shall we go?" Haru said, eyes blinking open. Makoto hummed starting to follow Haru out of the shrine, back up the stone path they had come from.

"What'd you pray for?"

Haru huffed, "Nothing important" as he turned away, eyes on his feet as they walked.

Makoto smiled. Even though Haru didn’t talk much, and rarely revealed much about himself, it was getting easier and easier to read him with each passing day.

He liked to pretend he could read his mind sometimes.

Please let there be fresh mackerel today, he’d pray

Please let the weather be nice so I can go swimming

Please let this year be gentle on my energy reserves

Please keep everyone safe

Please I don’t want to die

Makoto bites down on his lip hard, cutting himself off.

"You know, I think I understand what you were trying to tell me now, from back then."

"About what?" Haru peered up him as they walked along, hands in his pocket.

"The thing about how both sides were the same. How we both wanted and did the same things"

It takes a few steps to realize that Haru had stopped walked. Stopping too, Makoto turned back. "Why are you bringing that up now?" Haru asked, his face turned to side.

“Well, I thought it was important that you know” Makoto rubbed the back of his neck

“Don’t talk so much about the past” Haru snapped. Only now did Makoto notice how tense Haru has, his shoulders all scrunched up and hands balled up and trembling all over. Makoto bites the inside of his mouth. He was so stupid! He didn’t know why he decided to say anything. Why he’d risk bringing up bad memories

"I’m sorry” Makoto wished he’d never said anything in the first place. Neither said anything for a while, before Haru starts walking again, Makoto falling back into step. Without meaning to, Makoto slips his hand into Haru’s. Gently easing the vice-like grip open, he gently runs his thumb over his knuckles.

“I’m sorry”

“It’s okay” Haru mumbles as he squeezes Makoto’s hand, staring at his feet. Neither had to say anything anymore, existing in the comfortable silence that was starting to be a habit for both of them, as Haru lead them down stone steps, back towards the house that Makoto has started to call home.

\----

"I have to go. I mean I’m going to have to go back"

"I know"

"I’m sorry"

"It’s not your fault"

\----

 

The white sheets billowed gently in the wind. Flowing on their lines like great sails as Makoto finished pegging the last one. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he took a moment to admire then view from Haru porch. The sea was a crisp pristine blue, twinkling as it reflected the afternoon sun.

But then his throat is closing up and memories of blood dying blue red threaten to consume him. He grips his forearm, digging his nails into skin leaving behind red ugly marks as he tries to anchor himself.

The sound of glass clinking against wood startles him. Whipping around to see haru setting down glass cups on the coffee table, "Teas ready" he calls out to him

Makoto takes a shaky breath in, hoping that the sheets block Haru’s view enough so he can’t see how he’s shaking. He wipes his eyes just to make sure. His smile, no matter how fake, is back as he meets Haru at the porch.

"Thanks Haru" his smile widens as he takes the cup from Haru as they both settle in at the table.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Makoto says way too quickly. He raises his cup and takes a sip. "Why’d you ask?" He tries his best to sound natural.

Haru watches him. Eyes searching his again before he sighs "no reason."

Makoto gives him a small smile, a real one this time. Grateful that he doesn’t pry

Slowly Makoto can already feel the panic trickling out of him, even though he has to pinch himself a couple of times to stop his mind from wondering to dangerous places.

Haru starts to sketch, eyes focused and serious on whatever he was drawing. Makoto rests his head on his hand as he watches the tries to memorize all of the small gestures that Haru made. A small pout or tilt of the head, the way the muscles moved in his hand and arm and fingers as he expertly made marks on the page.

"What are staring at?" Haru says without even looking up from his page. Makoto starts, feeling the blush rush into his cheeks from getting caught.

"Nothing. Just thinking" he tries to play off. Haru hums.

"May I see?" Makoto starts crawling over to his side but Haru is pulling it back, holding his sketchbook guardedly against his chest

"I'll show it to you when it’s done"

Makoto chuckled at Haru’s little pout before surrendering and sitting back down. Haru relaxes too and begins to sketch again. Makoto begins to wonder if this is what’d it be like he decided to stay, just lazy afternoons together, comfortable silences and morning strolls to the shrine. He digs his nails into his flesh.

"I think I’d like to have kids one day."

Haru peeks at from behind his sketchbook for a moment before his eyes flicker down again "I think you’d make a great father."

\----

 

Makoto’s about to finally drift asleep after what seems like hours of just staring at the ceiling when a soft knock on his door jolts him back awake. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he sees Haru standing by the door, hair in his face.

"Can I sleep with you?" He asks so quietly, not even looking at him.

"Yeah, sure" Makoto replies back without hesitating. Holding the blanket up for Haru has he slides in next to him. They shift around until both of them are comfortable. Haru curled up to Makoto’s chest while Makoto gently rests his arm in the dip of his waist.

 This isn’t the first time Haru has snuck into his room.

"Did you have a night mare?" Makoto asks carefully, pushing Haru’s fringe off of his forehead, tucking the loose strands behind his ear.

"Mmmmm" it sounds more like a whimper then a sound of agreement. Haru presses into Makoto's touch, a silent command for more. Makoto doesn’t know how long he spends just lazily carding his hand through silken hair, working his hand through clumps, fingers massaging his scalp or playing with the shorter baby hairs at the base of his neck.

"T-tomorrow you’re leaving."

It makes his heart ache.

"Don’t think about that now, okay?"

For Haru’s sake, Makoto just pulls Haru closer to him when he feels Haru hold onto him tighter.

His uniform is uncomfortable and stiff from not being used. He plays with his hat as he stares out into the crowd. It seemed like the entire town had come down to the harbour, everybody was cheering and pushing to get a better view of soldiers who waved as they got onto their ships.

“Come on, Mike, time to go” Someone, Makoto doesn’t really care who, places a hand on his shoulder, turning toward the ship.

“Yeah, I’m coming.” Makoto’s shoulders sag slightly as he pulls on his cap. He glances over his shoulder, imagining that he’d see he’d spot shining black hair amidst the crowd.

"Makoto!"

Makoto’s heart stops then fluttered as he whips around, catching sight of Haru fighting against the crowd to get to him. Makoto started to work his way to him too. Haru crashes into his chest as they met, wrapping thin arms around him, Makoto tucking his head under his chin as he held him even tighter.

"What are you doing here, Haru? I thought you said you didn’t want to come"

Haru shook his head vigorously against his shirt. Makoto sniffed once. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t cry. Haru forced something into his hands. Makoto looks at Haru then down to the piece of paper in his hands. Carefully he unrolls it and his breath catches.

It looked just like him, down to the cow lick in his hair, down to the small scar on his neck. Staring at him was marble eyes

"You really are a wonderful artist." He said even as tears started to fall.

Haru is hugging him again, but he is staring at him with wet steely eyes that wouldn’t take no as an answer

"Promise that you'll come find me again."

"I will, Haru. I promise, I will. Always"

**Author's Note:**

> * Enryo shinaide= Don’t be shy
> 
> Thanks rainbowsprinklesandcats for this idea, I hope you like it. 
> 
> But as always, kudos and comments are always appreciated, tell me what you liked/ what you didn't etc etc (but only if you want to). Sorry if I missed any errors/mistakes in this fic but I'm kinda rushing cause I really should be studying right now :/


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